


Between a Hunter and a Monster

by eeyore9990



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Clubbing, Implied Sexual Content, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Older Man/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With all the virgins being sacrificed around Beacon Hills, Isaac Lahey is all too aware of the threat his own innocence poses.  He's not had a lot of control over his life to this point; he wants to do this on his own terms.</p><p>But when he goes to the club, the last people he expects to find there are Chris Argent and Peter Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between a Hunter and a Monster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arabwel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/gifts).



> Thanks to B and D for looking this over for me. You guys are the best! 
> 
> To Arabwel, I sincerely hope you enjoy this. Happy Fall Harvest!

Isaac stared down at the table where the map was set, little red flags marking the places where they'd found the first three sacrifices. He didn't really see them, though; they were a blur in front of his face as his vision focused inward, trying to find a choice that wasn't completely awful. A choice that felt like _his_ instead of someone else's.

He'd had far too much of stumbling along in the direction life pulled him. He wanted, for this one thing, to make his own decision. 

With that thought in mind, he went upstairs and pulled on his tightest clothing, ran his hand through his hair until it was just ruffled enough to encourage _other_ fingers to tunnel through the curly strands. He bit at his lips until they were plump and red, inviting. And then he walked back downstairs with purpose, striding quickly toward the door and undoing the locks and alarms.

"Isaac," Derek's voice stopped him at the heavy door, made him hesitate. "You don't have to do this. We'll — _I'll_ figure something out."

Forcing a cocky smile to his lips, Isaac half turned and shrugged. "Not like I was doing anything with it, right?"

"You're too young—"

"Yeah? Tell that to Heather. And that girl in the woods." When the skin around Derek's eyes quivered with a flinch, Isaac rolled his shoulders back and shook his head. "Whatever. It is what it is. I'll take care of this tonight, and tomorrow we'll get back to finding the person responsible for these murders." At the misery hanging thick in the air, Isaac softened his voice and said, "It's fine, Derek. I promise. This isn't—"

Suddenly, Derek was right there, too close. His hand reached out, but didn't touch — probably because Isaac still flinched from hands coming toward him. "I'll do it."

That startled a sharp bark of laughter from Isaac, which trailed off into a horrified gulp. "I appreciate the thought. I really do." Isaac's fingers twitched as he briefly considered reaching out, laying a consoling hand on Derek's arm. "But there's not a chance in hell. I mean, you're my _Alpha_ , that would be…" When Derek's shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit, Isaac ducked his head to hide the way his eyes rolled. "Ugh. Just stay here, see if you can find out anything else. I'll be back in a few hours. Okay?"

But Derek was already turning away, doing his best to hide the sting of rejection that traveled so easily through their bond. Isaac forced down the nearly overwhelming need to take it back, to agree to _anything_ if it would just soothe his alpha.

Derek had enough sex-related issues without knowing his alpha influence had pushed Isaac into sleeping with him. 

Resolve strengthened, Isaac tugged the heavy door open and pushed it closed behind him, not stepping away until he heard Derek engaging the alarms once more.

* * *

Chris replaced the nozzle into the gas pump, waiting for his receipt to spit out when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. Turning fluidly, keeping his movements natural as he abandoned the receipt and moved toward the driver's side door, he scanned the surrounding area. 

He shouldn't be here; this particular gas station was far enough away from his new apartment that, if Allison found out, she'd be disappointed. The fact that it was in viewing distance of the front entrance to Derek Hale's apartment would make it even worse.

But Chris' hunting instincts were too strong to give up completely. The voice in the back of his head that whispered — in his father's voice — that the town 'wolves were dangerous wasn't easily silenced.

So when Chris saw a dark shadow slip through the entrance and out into the night… he couldn't help but follow.

* * *

Isaac entered the club, nerves twanging as clashing scents hit his nose and nearly made him recoil. Too much cologne, perfume, alcohol, and _arousal_ combined into a sickly overwhelming scent, forcing him to breathe through his mouth. He was never going to find a partner to relieve him of his virginity if he couldn't get hold of his senses.

Slipping into the mass of bodies writhing on the dance floor, Isaac allowed the music to move through him, the beat vibrating in his bones as he drifted from one blandly attractive person to the next.

Just because he had to do this to keep from becoming a victim didn't mean that he wanted to regret it in the morning.

* * *

Chris walked along the sidewalk, ignoring the flickering streetlamps that threw dancing shadows across his path. He knew where he was going now, and quickened his pace, every sense locked on the black metal doors that guarded the club his prey had just slipped into.

It was his lack of focus on his surroundings that allowed him to be so easily captured, he chided himself, as he was dragged into a darkened alley and thrust up against a brick wall of questionable cleanliness. Keeping utterly calm, he blandly acknowledged his captor with a gruff, "Hale."

White teeth flashed in the darkness, the points of them a little too sharp. " _Argent._ Why are you following the boy?"

"You know why."

" _Hunter_ ," Peter Hale hissed with the same venom lacing his tone as when he'd uttered Chris' family name. 

A soft click accompanied Chris' smugly curving lips, and Peter's eyes flicked down to the wolfsbane-soaked switchblade he was pressing into the 'wolf's side. "Exactly. Mind your manners."

Peter snarled at him, but released him, stepping back. "Leave the boy alone. He's done nothing to earn your attention."

Without another word, Peter turned and slipped out of the alley, putting a little sway in his stride as he walked across the street to the club. The music's brief increase in volume was all the signal Chris needed to follow after him.

* * *

Bodies pressed in around him, rubbing their scent into his skin. The heat of the club had him sweaty, his hair plastered to his skin as he grinded against the ass pressed back against his crotch. He felt taken over by the music, transported above the nose-wrinkling stench of too many bodies pressed too close in too tight a space.

He moved and danced and turned, arms a natural, graceful extension of his long, lean body.

* * *

When his eyes adjusted to the flickering lights cutting through the thick darkness of the club, Chris spotted the bar and instantly started toward it. He'd use its central location as a watch point and track the two men he'd followed from there. 

As he was half-shouting his order to the bartender — water only, because no hunter worth their salt would dare walk around with impaired senses — he felt a warm presence at his back. Somehow he knew, without even turning around, whose chest it was that was pressed all hot and firm against his back.

"Hale," he muttered, not bothering to raise his voice over the blasting beat of the obnoxious techno music. "We meet again. So soon."

"I told you to back off, Argent," Peter said, his breath humid against the shell of Chris' ear. "Leave my pack alone. I won't warn you again."

Glass of water finally delivered, Chris turned around, not so gently elbowing Peter out of his way. "If I didn't know better, Hale, I'd say you were acting like a jealous boyfriend." At the look on Peter's face, Chris rolled his eyes. "Put the fangs away before you call the wrong sort of attention to yourself. I'm not the only hunter in this town, you know."

"Which is, again, _not our fault_. Unless you think the pack is dabbling in the sort of magic that is inaccessible to our kind."

Chris tilted his head. "Not… entirely. The Stilinski boy—"

"Not our pack—"

"—successfully laid a circle of mountain ash around this very building." Familiar rage rose in him at the memory of the events that had occurred that evening. "I don't need to tell you what else he might be capable of."

"In my experience, those who lay mountain ash around buildings do so for the purpose of burning entire families alive."

When Chris could finally unclench his jaw, he shot a narrow-eyed gaze at Peter. "Why do you even care? Your 'pack' abandoned you here, then came back to kill you. And succeeded. Just because you're standing here with me now doesn't negate those actions. I'd think you'd be off somewhere in your lair of villainy plotting your revenge."

Peter stared at him for a long minute before he relaxed back, stepping toward the bar and putting his back to it as he leaned his elbows on the edge. His eyes flickered over the throng moving in an odd synchronicity on the dance floor before they apparently homed in on the Lahey kid. "The boy is… untouched. Pure. It's been a long time since there was anything pure in my life. I'm oddly touched and want to ensure that, virgin sacrifices or not, he doesn't come out of his foolhardy quest with regrets."

Chris' eyebrows shot up and he followed Peter's gaze to where he could just make out Isaac, pressed tight between two smaller bodies, his twisting, turning length all grace and undulating hips. "He's…?"

"Apparently so. Not for lack of trying, I'm sure." Peter's gaze turned from Isaac to Chris then before he smirked and said, "Is that interest I smell?"

"What?" Chris jerked his head to the side, shocked out of his nonchalant attitude. "He's a child."

"He's an innocent, a boy who is fighting to _protect himself_." The way Peter let that roll off his tongue made Chris bitterly aware that Peter was privy to the _new_ Argent motto. "Don't you want to help him, Argent? Don't you want to protect him?"

"He's my daughter's age." There were certain lines Chris would not cross. This was somewhere on the long list of them.

"Would you prefer I call the fresh young Argent huntress? Let her know her services are needed?"

"What are you playing at, Hale?" Chris asked, aggression in every line of his body, anger thrumming through him at the implied threat to Allison. 

"Just passing time," Peter said, dismissing Chris with a flick of his eyes. "Amusing myself at your expense is, as always, a treat." Pushing away from the bar, Peter raked a disdainful gaze down Chris' body as he threw out his parting shot. "If you'll excuse me now, it appears my young friend requires protection."

Chris held himself back for a solid ten seconds before a breath punched out of him in the form of a curse and he started pushing through the crowd that Peter had flowed so gracefully through mere moments prior.

* * *

Isaac had allowed himself a few hours to just dance, to relax and push away the thought of what might happen to him if his plan for the evening didn't succeed. To banish the thought that if this didn't work, what Derek might do to keep Isaac safe.

That wasn't a thought that settled easily.

But as the minutes ticked by, as one dance turned into another, as one body twirled away to be replaced with a different one, Isaac started to slowly despair. None of this felt right. He wanted someone he could be comfortable with, not some random stranger from the club. He wanted someone he might be able to sleep beside, to wake up next to. Someone who might want to do those things with him. 

It was as the panic was starting to set in, as the dancing, whirling frenzy around him went from close to crushing, that he felt an arm slip around his waist and a firm chest press into his back. His new partner pressed their forehead to the back of Isaac's neck, and he heard the soft, "Shhh, child. I've got you."

The familiarity of that voice should increase his panic, he knew it should, but the comfort of _pack_ rose up from Peter's scent combined with the steadying grip around his waist made Isaac relax. Dropping his head til his chin was nearly touching his chest, Isaac asked, "Did Derek send you?"

"You credit Derek with far more foresight than he's capable at this point, young one. I came on my own." Peter's grip on him was firm, but not restricting, allowing Isaac to turn so their whispered conversation would be just that bit more private. "I feel I must warn you, however, that you've attracted attention of the unsavory sort."

Isaac raised his eyebrows at that before he followed the direction of Peter's head tilt to see Allison's dad shouldering his way through the mass of bodies on the dance floor. Blinking in bemusement, he looked back at Peter and asked, "'Attention'? You don't mean… I mean, he's not interested in _me_."

"More than he's willing to admit, even to himself. Perhaps especially to himself." Peter waited until Chris was close before reaching up a hand and winding it around the back of Isaac's neck, grinding his hips in a slow, dirty roll against Isaac's. "But maybe we can change that."

Isaac absentmindedly followed Peter's lead in the dance, taking quick peeks at Chris as he let thoughts of _Chris Argent_ fill his head. It wasn't… an unpleasant thought. But everything Isaac knew of the man painted someone who could become hostile, brutally angry even. As composed as he generally kept himself, Isaac had seen true heat in this cold blue eyes before, and that…

Isaac wasn't willing to become anyone's punching bag.

"I'd never let him hurt you," Peter breathed into the sweaty skin of Isaac's jaw as Chris drew even with them. 

Chris just stood there, watching, not even bothering to dance by himself, much to the annoyance of the crowd that tried to close in around him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he watched Peter and Isaac dance, and there was something about it that made Isaac flash back to the night at the rave. 

The rave that had happened right here, in almost this very spot.

He remembered the feel of Erica in his arms, her soft body pressed full and warm and promising against him. He remembered looking past her, seeing the angry passion in Jackson's eyes. A passion that was mirrored in the gaze locked on his now. 

Just like before, Isaac felt his lips curl upward in a predatory smirk, a teasing promise of all that could be filling the air between him and Chris even while Peter's body slid against his like a stripper sliding along a pole. Isaac knew Peter was taunting Chris, just as Erica had been taunting Jackson that night. 

But this time, they weren't trying to entice a kanima out to play. This might be even more dangerous, because the mouse to their cat this time was a seasoned hunter. A man who knew their every weakness and had no qualms exploiting them.

* * *

The irritation that had been prickling at Chris since he'd given in and started following Peter through the crowd exploded into a hot thrumming in his veins as soon as he got close enough to see the way Isaac and Peter were rubbing all over each other. Peter, who was Chris' age, who was old enough to be Isaac's father.

And the most aggravating part was that Isaac seemed not to mind at all. It was like the boy had been waiting for this very moment all night. Like all the dancing and grinding leading up to this had just been… foreplay.

Chris snarled, gaze catching Isaac's and locking on, demanding to be acknowledged.

Then he was, and the acknowledgement was almost more than Chris was prepared for. There was a heat in Isaac's eyes that was almost animalistic in nature, but it called to uncivilized portion of Chris' brain. It whispered teasingly to him, told him to move, to come closer. It told him he'd found everything he was looking for, right here.

It was so hot, and so completely unexpected that it shocked the breath right out of Chris' lungs and he had to look down, to break away first before he was devoured with just a simple look. A simple look from a boy who knew nothing of the promise in his eyes.

But in looking down, he got snared in the triumphant gleam in Peter Hale's eyes. He saw the way Peter smirked at him, watched that hand — tipped with claws and so very deadly — tighten on the back of Isaac's pale length of neck. The hand that was so close to that lovely stretch of throat, close enough to rip it out.

Chris jerked forward at the thought, his own body betraying his need to, yes, _protect_ this boy. This boy who could at one and the same time look like the purest innocent and Chris' ultimate downfall.

* * *

Peter growled, a low sound that was all frustration. If he left the rest of the evening to these two idiots, they'd still be standing here eating each other up with their eyes come morning. Ripping his gaze away from Chris, he opened his mouth and stretched upward, closing his teeth in an almost cruel bite over the join of Isaac's shoulder and neck. 

Almost simultaneously, two things happened. The first was Isaac going nearly limp in his arms, the bite triggering a deliciously submissive state in the boy. The second was Chris leaping forward, that damned knife of his pressed tight to Peter's neck — not breaking the skin, but not far from it either. 

"Let him go, Hale," Chris snarled in his ear, violence in the stench of aggression twining into his scent.

Peter sighed and pulled away with a soft little lick to Isaac's throat, eyes lingering on the imprint of his very-human teeth in all that lovely skin. "Look. He's unharmed. Down, boy."

Released, Isaac curled inward slowly until his head was nestled against Peter's shoulder — which honestly couldn't be a very comfortable position for the boy, considering Peter's height relative to his own. He hummed softly, breath rushing over Peter even as he brought his hand up, his motions so slow they appeared almost drugged. Grasping at Chris' wrist, he eased the knife from Peter's throat and applied pressure until Chris dropped the knife entirely. There wasn't even a hint of irritation on Chris' wrist when Isaac drew his fingers away… though not entirely away. He seemed to delight in the texture of the hair dotting Chris' arm, dragging the pads of his fingers through it as little noises burst from his throat.

Peter smiled then, hiding it in Isaac's hair. "Tell me, little one," he murmured, rolling his eyes up to read the look on Chris' face. "Tell me what you want. Which one you want."

Isaac straightened again, one hand smoothing over the lowest part of Peter's back, tugging him in tight to Isaac's body, even as he clenched his fingers around Chris' arm and dragged him closer. "Both, I think. If it's okay, I think I want… yeah. _Both_."

Peter raised an eyebrow at Chris in challenge until Chris sighed in defeat, moving in and trapping Isaac's body between the two of them. A hunter and a monster, and the boy had made them both his choice.

The evening looked promising indeed.

* * *

As they walked through the door of Peter's downtown apartment — located a mere five blocks from the club itself — the stillness inside was so different to the atmosphere at the club that Chris began to have second thoughts. 

Who was he kidding? He was having at least fifth or sixth thoughts at this point, though the memory of Isaac's body moving against his while they'd danced was one that had pushed many of his objections straight out of his head. 

Turning to the boy, Chris laid a restraining hand on him and asked, "Are you sure about this?" Gesturing between himself and Peter, he added, "We can't be what you were hoping for when you walked in that club tonight."

Isaac looked from the hand on his arm to Chris' face and shrugged. "I want someone who knows what they're doing. I want someone who will take care of me. I want it to be _my decision_ and not some psycho serial killer's. I think… I was ready to leave when Peter showed up. It was too close in the club, too stifling. But then I felt my pack. I felt _your_ concern for _me_. And you're a hunter. Do you even—" His teeth sunk into his lip, cutting himself off. Looking down, his shoulders hunched as he whispered, "If you don't want me, I'll understand. But I want this." He glanced between the two men with a shrug. "I _want_ this."

"Good enough for me!" Peter said with a soft clap of his hands. Striding forward, he closed in on Isaac, hand wrapping around his neck again before drawing him close to place a sucking kiss over his pulse. 

The feel of lips there was akin to pouring fire-hot liquid arousal directly into Isaac's veins. With a small whimper, he folded forward, pressing into the mouth on his throat even as his hips hitched of their own volition.

Chris watched Peter's mouth open, watched as he pressed the flat of his tongue to Isaac's throat and licked a long line up to the boy's jaw before nipping it with his teeth. And he watched as Isaac's eyes rolled back in his head, watched as the boy fell apart with just that small display.

He realized as his nails cut into the palms of his hands that _he_ wanted that. He wanted Isaac falling apart for _him._ He wanted to wipe the smirk off of Peter's smug face. He wanted to have both these 'wolves at his mercy.

Striding forward, he fisted his hand in the hair at the back of Isaac's head and yanked, dragging him backward, away from Peter and toward Chris so that he could get at the other side of Isaac's beautiful throat.

* * *

Peter could smell it sharp on the air, the bitter scent of come. With Chris in the game and successfully distracting Isaac, Peter dropped to his knees and methodically undressed the boy from the waist down. Boots, socks, and absurd skinny jeans all disappeared until Isaac was dressed only in the tight t-shirt he'd started the night in and the even tighter briefs that did nothing to hide the fact that the boy was about to spill all over himself. 

Looking up the length of Isaac's body, Peter saw that Chris, though busily sucking momentary bruises to Isaac's neck and shoulders, was watching Peter avidly. With a slow, wicked grin, Peter leaned forward and dragged his open mouth over the fabric-covered cock straining toward him. When he reached the tip, which was wedged sideways under the elastic band of the underwear, he closed his lips and sucked, dragging the flavor of come and laundry detergent into his mouth.

_Laundry detergent._

Wrinkling his nose, Peter carefully pulled the damp underwear away from Isaac's body and slid them down his long, pale legs before taking the boy into his mouth. It took only a few long sucks before Isaac was spilling down his throat with a sharp cry of completion.

And then Peter sat back on his heels and waited, watching avidly as Chris' hands roamed over Isaac's torso, tweaking his nipples as Chris murmured things into Isaac's ear like "beautiful" and "gorgeous boy" and "so good for us."

Peter cocked his head to the side, considering this. Much as it irked him to share anything of worth with a hunter, he could only agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment. Isaac was very, very good for them.

Which was why Peter was content to be patient in this. It was why when, after Isaac had managed to gather his wits and his breath again, his cock hanging limp against his thigh, Peter looked up at him seriously and said, his voice quiet and intense, "You are no longer a virgin. From this point forward, everything you do, every act, every touch, is well and truly your choice. Do you still want this?"

Isaac blinked at him for a long moment, still apparently sorting out the mush of his brain, poor boy. Then, like the sun rising through the mist and burning it away, he began to smile, a wide, beautiful thing. 

"I want this, I want you both, more than I've ever wanted anything."

* * *

Isaac rolled over, squinting against the bright sunlight that poured through the sheer curtains, then he froze, eyes widening in something like shock as he recalled the events of the previous night. 

He had imagined, back when he did so, that a night like the one he'd just lived through would have left him sore and aching in all sorts of new places. But because of his body's ability to heal the most serious wounds, he simply felt refreshed. 

A hand snaked around his waist then, pulling him back into a firm body as a head snuffled down between his shoulder blades, using him as a shield from the the obnoxious light that filled the room. 

"Hale," Chris' raspy voice was muffled against Isaac's back, "I will fucking shoot you if you don't get blackout curtains in here _today_."

"Don't be an infant, Argent." 

Isaac started, because Peter's voice had come from the doorway, where he was… standing with an honest-to-God tray which was holding three steaming mugs.

Coffee. "Oh god, yes, coffee," Isaac moaned, and then felt Chris' dick stir against his ass. Interesting.

Peter placed the tray on the bed before crawling back in on Isaac's other side, taking a moment to drag his cheek over Isaac's. Then, apparently satisfied in the arrangements, Peter began handing out the coffee, though Isaac noticed that Chris got his last.

"And what, dear boys," Peter asked, blowing the steam from his mug, "shall we do today?"


End file.
